iDream
by Lynne Nesia
Summary: Carly, Sam, and Freddie are asleep on the couch. Fluffy Seddie.
1. Couch Dreaming

Freddie sat on the couch, his lap top warming the tops of his thighs as he clacked away on the keyboard, typing up a new html for the iCarly website. Sam sat to his right, remote in hand, as her eyes slowly fell closed. Next to her, lay Carly, who was snoring contently against her armrest. Freddie wasn't tired, or so he told himself as he rubbed at his dry eyes, poking at the bags that hung beneath them. He had been having trouble sleeping lately, tossing and turning every night for a week, and when he did fall asleep, he had very unsettling dreams. He was attacked by pieces of ham and other meat products, and loud, obnoxious laughter that surrounded him. It was enough to make him sneak behind his mother's back and make pots of coffee for the last five nights, risking the lecture he would have received. It was much better that being slapped with a ham in dream form. But all of the missed sleep was beginning to catch up with him, and his head dropped to fall on top of Sam's head, which had mysteriously fallen against his shoulder in the past minute, and his eyes closed.

Freddie was walking in a park, surrounded by bright sunlight, peaceful as the birds chirped around him. He came to a stop in front of a park bench, upon which Sam sat, kicking her legs at the air in front of her. He stared at her oddly, cocking his head to the side as she grinned up at him. She opened her mouth, as if she was about to utter something of great importance, but at that moment, Freddie awoke with a start, sitting up right and shifting the real Sam a bit. She groaned in her sleep, said something along the lines of "Freddie, don't be such a nub, lie still," and raised her hand to pull Freddie's shoulder back into its original position, a soft smile on her face. He adjusted to the feeling of moderate wakefulness and smirked, thinking how ironic it was that Sam and he would be dreaming about each other. He didn't have long to ponder this, however as he fell back asleep soon after.

Sam was rudely woken that morning as beads of light filled the room, falling delicately upon her face, right over her eye lids. She moaned desperately as she twisted her face into the curve of Freddie's neck, and promptly fell back asleep. Carly was up already, always the early riser, and was wandering around the kitchen, gathering tools to whip up breakfast for her two slumbering friends. She paused in her breakfast hunt to grab her PearPhone and take a picture of the two, when she noticed the position they were lying in. Freddie was sitting face forward on the couch, his arm wrapped around Sam's midsection and his head was resting on Sam's head, which was buried in Freddie's neck as her shoulder was twisted towards the warmth that Freddie's chest provided. Carly grinned to herself, knowing that it was only a matter of time before her friends' subconscious desires were made conscious, but for now, it was nice to have photographic proof.

A little while later, when the scent of frying bacon wafted from the kitchen to the couch, Sam groaned, knowing that in order to get food, she would have to get up and leave the warm heater that she apparently fell asleep on. She opened her eyes, and sat up a bit, noticing that the heater happened to be Freddie. She bit back a yelp, and thought to herself, "I am not touching that with a thirty foot pole," and slid off the couch, trying not to wake him. She paused, watching him shift and mutter in his sleep as he turned to the space that she used to occupy. She smirked a little bit, and sleepily shuffled into the kitchen to grab some bacon out of the frying pan.

"What was that all about?" Carly asked as whacked Sam's hand with the neon green plastic spatula she was using to push the bacon round the pan.

"What was what all about?" Sam replied, munching on her toasty bacon.

"You and Freddie being all snuggly on the couch," Carly inquired, a thick tone of smugness in her voice.

"Freddie and I were not all snuggly, now stop talking about it before he wakes up!" She whispered angrily.

"But Sam-"

"Stop it Carly. We were sleeping next to each other, he was warm, and I was cold. There is nothing to talk about. Now, shush!" Sam commanded, blowing spit as she shushed her friend angrily.

"Hey Guys," said Freddie sleepily as he walked over to the kitchen island, placing his lap top on the counter. "What were you guys just talking about? You woke me up with your creepy whispers,"

"Nothing," Sam replied hurriedly, stuffing the piece of bacon that she was holding into her mouth.

"Yeah… nothing," answered Carly, pushing the crispy bacon onto a serving plate.

"Suuuure," said Freddie, waggling his eyebrows at the two girls as they walked over and sat down at the table. Sam wished she could wag her eyebrows, and then attempted to do so, making an adorably scrunched up face as she willed her eyebrows into submission. Or, at least, Freddie thought the face she made was adorable. Carly thought it was ridiculous. They sat down and began to eat, not bothering to wait for Spencer.


	2. The Morning After

**Yeah, this was intentionally supposed to be a one shot, but I got comments to continue, so I did. I guess. Enjoy, cuz there is more on the way. **

After breakfast had finished, Carly and Sam went upstairs to change as Freddie walked across the hall to do the same. As the two girls waited in the iCarly studio, Carly used the opportunity that summer holidays provided to grill her friend without Freddie interrupting.

"So, what happened last night?" Carly asked, trying to shift her face into an unassuming look of curiosity.

"Nothing happened." Sam replied, falling into the purple beanbag chair.

"Oh really? Why did you fall asleep on him?" Carly pressed, falling into the yellow beanbag chair a few feet way from Sam.

"Because…" Sam fiddled with her long blond hair, twirling it round her finger, staring intently at it.

"Sam, do you like Freddie?" Carly asked, taking a chance prompted by her friend's silence. Sam hesitated for a second, before opening her mouth to speak, but at the last second, she closed her mouth and shook her head from side to side a couple times. "Sam, answer the question."

"Fine. Yes, I like Freddie, okay. There, I said it. Laugh, go ahead. Sam fell for the dork that she likes to rag on, chuckle, chuckle, chuckle." Sam's face fell as she buried her head into a near by pillow and let out a muted scream of frustration. At the door to the iCarly studio, the clear center exposed Freddie, poised min-grab for the door handle, a shocked expression on his face that slowly morphed into a small smile. He waited another moment, then gripped the shining brass handle and twisted, a sure and swift movement, and stepped through.

"Hey," he said, walking up to his camera to fiddle with the white balance. Carly and Sam's heads whipped around to see Freddie walking through the threshold and placing his lap top on the setup he usually had it stationed on. Sam flashed Carly a look of pure fear, her heart rate escalating, beating loud enough that she was sure that Freddie could hear it. Freddie hooked in his lap top to charge, and walked over to sit on the last beanbag chair, the furniture letting out a whoosh of air as his body sunk into the material. "Pass the popcorn," he said, trying his best for a nonchalant sounding voice, knowing that if they guessed that he overheard, things could get very, very bad in only a matter of seconds. Instead, he played stupid, pretending he had heard nothing. It had only confirmed his suspicions, but it welcome anyway as a major confidence booster to his plans.

Carly and Sam, who were oblivious to all that Freddie was planning, exhaled simultaneous sighs of relief, thinking that they had narrowly escaped certain disaster, and as Carly passed Freddie the bowl of popcorn that had been sitting in her lap, Sam let her head fall back against her beanbag seat, trying to slow her heartbeat, failing somewhat miserably. At least the others wouldn't know that. She tried to be okay, tried to cope with him being so close, and the fact that she had come to terms with her infatuation, but she could not handle the strain it had placed on her, and decided to get out, to clear her head. She did a roll backwards, off the beanbag, and stood up, flipping her long hair over her head, shaking it out of her eyes.

"I'm going to that market across the street for some breakfast. I'll be back later," Sam stated to no one in particular as she turned and walked out of the studio, grabbing her hoodie from where she had thrown it earlier.

"But Sam, we had breakfast-," Carly called, but stopped midsentence as the door to the studio shut loudly.

"Well, that was weird," Freddie said, scooping more buttery popcorn out of the clear bowl, eating it out of his hand like a dog.

"So," Carly turned to stare him down. "You heard, didn't you?" Freddie coughed, chocking for a moment on a piece of popcorn got stuck in his throat. He gasped a bit as he grabbed at the water Carly held out for him, washing away the raw feeling that the salty snack had left in his esophagus.

"Heard… what?" Freddie asked between deep, gasping breaths, trying to look slightly baffled and confused.

"Oh don't play dumb, I know you heard what Sam and I were talking about before you walked through the door. It's not soundproof." Carly gave Freddie an annoyed look, peeved that he believed he could fool her with such a blatant and terrible lie. After he didn't respond for a moment, choosing to return his breathing to normal, Carly grew even more frustrated, and intensified her glare tenfold, while Freddie scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Alright, stop glaring at me. I heard your conversation, mostly just the end part." Freddie said, turning away from Carly to hide the blush that spread across his cheeks.

"And…" Carly prompted, looking at him expectantly.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Freddie asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"I want you to tell me that you like Sam, and that you are coming up with a plan in that large brain of yours to win her over, so you two can stop dancing around the issue like some strange polka dance involving crushing small bugs with your feet!" Carly yelled, standing up to further emphasize her point.

"Yes, I like Sam, okay! I don't know how, I don't know why, but I like her." Freddie hid his face in his hands, as if ashamed by his announcement. Carly wasn't sure if the shame was from his guilt of not liking herself anymore, or because he was frustrated that it was Sam who became the object of his affections, but she was too elated at her friends' admissions of attraction to pay too much mind.

"When are you going to ask her out? How are you going to ask her out? Where are you going to take her?" The questions poured out of Carly's mouth, like the gushing waters of a newly melted spring flood.

"How do I even know we can work as a couple?" Freddie fired back at Carly, whose mouth closed with a decisive snap. "Yeah, we like each other, but we fight all the time! How is that the basis for a stable relationship?"

"Oh please. There are two types of romantic relationships; the types where the couples are passive, laid back, always agreeing with each other, and aggressive, where the couples are both stubborn and fight often, but with that strife comes great passion for one another, but only if they are willing to fight for each other as well. Now, go and fight for her!" Carly yelled, grabbing Freddie's arm and pulling him to his feet, using the momentum to also push him towards the door, causing him to stumble a little.

"Thanks for the push," he said, rolling his eyes at her as he grabbed his coat and headed down the stairs and out of sight. Carly smirked at a job well done, and headed to her room to hop into a shower. She didn't expect her two best friends to be back for awhile.

Freddie ran down the stairs, gripping tight to the banister as he jumped of the last four steps, landing in the lobby with a solid thump. He ran out the doors, the shrieks of Lewbert fading as Freddie put distance between them. He ran across the street, not bothering to look both ways as his mother had instructed him countless times before, and collided with the large window pane of the shop. He pressed his face to it, cupping his hands round his eyes to block out the weak glare of the cold winter sun, squinting to see Sam standing at the counter, shilling out coins to pay for a stick of beef jerky. As she turned towards the door, he whipped round, pressing his back against the cool glass, trying to work up any nerve he had in him.


	3. Beef Jerky Dialogue

**Hey Everybody. This is the last installment of iDream, so I hope you like it. **

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Freddie ran down the stairs, gripping tight to the banister as he jumped of the last four steps, landing in the lobby with a solid thump. He ran out the doors, the shrieks of Lewbert fading as Freddie put distance between them. He ran across the street, not bothering to look both ways as his mother had instructed him countless times before, and collided with the large window pane of the shop. He pressed his face to it, cupping his hands round his eyes to block out the weak glare of the cold winter sun, squinting to see Sam standing at the counter, shilling out coins to pay for a stick of beef jerky. As she turned towards the door, he whipped round, pressing his back against the cool glass, trying to work up any nerve he had in him.

Sam walked out of the store, counting her change in the palm of her hand, slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans, ripping open the plastic wrapping that stood between her and her meaty prize, and tore into the long stick of beef jerky. She was vicious with it, ripping off chunks like the stick of meat had caused Carly to fail a class. Freddie chuckled, just loud enough for her to hear him, and she turned to see him standing there, leaning against the window pane of the shop.

"Something funny Benson?" Sam asked, ripping off another bite of her jerky.

"No, it's nothing, Sam." Freddie said, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. There was a tense moment that followed, Freddie still smiling, Sam chewing her lip harshly. She turned to look at him, her mouth a grim line of determination.

"You heard, didn't you." She stated, in a monotone, "and now you've come to laugh in my face." Her hand fell to her side, the jerky shaking back and forth as she began to walk back towards Carly's house. The sky darkened, and the temperature dropped, causing Sam to pull at the sleeves of her jacket to cover her hands, zippering her jacket up to her neck.

Freddie followed, stating, "Of course not. You would beat the crap out of me. I like my flesh not bruised, thanks." Sam rolled her eyes at his stupid comment. She didn't hit that hard. And besides, he should be able to take it, despite the fact that he was a nerd. He is a boy after all, and boys were supposed to be tough. Instead, her mouth dropped open to snap at him with an underlying harshness as she questioned, "So why are you here?" Sam didn't trust herself to make eye contact, so she stared at the ground, watching her sneakers trudge along the ground with each new step.

"I am here to tell you that I feel the same way about you." Sam stopped walking and the last bite of her beef jerky fell from her lax hand, bouncing against the pavement twice before falling still. She turned to look and him, and he nodded once, a short bob of the head, not even breaking eye contact. A small smile of relief trickled onto her face as he reached out to grab her hand and walk back to his and Carly's apartment building, their footsteps falling in sync with one another.


End file.
